


Feelings

by genevievedarcygranger



Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [1]
Category: Criminal Minds (US TV)
Genre: Based on a Maroon 5 Song, F/M, Fellatio, Fluff and Smut, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Hijinks & Shenanigans, M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Requited Love, Romance, Romantic Comedy Shit, Short One Shot, Shower Sex, Showers, Smut, Song: Feelings (Maroon 5)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:33:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25346278
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genevievedarcygranger/pseuds/genevievedarcygranger
Summary: After your apartment’s water is shut off, you decide to grab at shower at Quantico’s communal showers. Little did you know that you would run into Hotch there – literally.
Relationships: Aaron Hotchner/Reader, Aaron Hotchner/You
Series: Hotch x Reader / Hotch x You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1862236
Comments: 8
Kudos: 202





	Feelings

**Author's Note:**

> This is loosely based off of Kira’s idea to Sammy: “Going on a run around headquarters and deciding to take a shower in the locker room before heading home. You’re already halfway undressed when you hear something. You check around the corner where the showers are and run straight into Hotch who promptly jumps, drops his towel and almost slips before you grab onto him. He’s breathing hard and dripping wet still and is like “you scared the shit out of me” and you’re just trying not to stare because wow he looks hot and DAMN, he’s hung.”

It was only just your luck that your apartment's water had been turned off. "Just routine maintenance," your helpful, if somewhat nosy neighbor Ms. Nesbitt informed you when she called. Ms. Nesbitt was the only one in your building that knew of the unusual hours your kept with your job at the BAU since she was the one you asked to water your houseplants, and occasionally take your clothes out of the communal laundry when you get called away on a case. "The landlord said it would be fixed by Monday, Tuesday at the latest."

You sighed at the timing of your landlord. Of course, this would be the one weekend you would be at Quantico instead of out on a case. "Thank you for calling to tell me, Ms. Nesbitt, but we've just landed an hour ago. I'm still at the office, so unfortunately, I'll be coming home."

"Well, at least I caught you early. I wasn't so lucky. He cut the water during the rinse cycle of my good linens."

"Oh, I'm sorry about that Ms. Nesbitt," you said distractedly, shuffling the paperwork. Your mind was already elsewhere as you considered where you can shower. Then there was the matter of your laundry, since your go-bag definitely needed to be repacked, but you were sure you could just spend your Saturday at a coin-operated laundry mat. It was the best you could do.

Morgan mentioned that when he worked out and helped train the new recruits, he usually grabbed a shower here. You hadn't had to do that yet, but you figured there was always a first time for everything. "Listen Ms. Nesbitt, I'm gonna have to let you go. I need to find somewhere to get a shower."

"You're not going to try to stay at a hotel just for this weekend?" Ms. Nesbitt suggested.

"Yeah, no thank you. I've spent enough weekends of my life away sleeping on those bricks hotel chains try to pass off as mattresses. Thanks again for the heads-up, and good luck with your linens!"

After you hung up, you glanced around the bullpen. Everyone else had either gone home, like Rossi, Reid, and JJ eager to see her boys, or gone bar hopping like Prentiss, Morgan, and Garcia. When you glanced up at Hotch's office, you saw that the lights were out. He must have gone home to Jack. _Good for him_ , you thought. Hotch worked too hard. Well, the entire BAU worked too hard, putting work over their personal life, but Hotch took it to an entirely new level of dedication. If it weren't bodily functions like eating and sleeping, you didn't think he'd ever go home.

Home. Jeez, you should really look into getting a new apartment. Ms. Nesbitt was nice and all, but this water business was the last straw. Besides, your apartment never really felt like home, not like Quantico did. Or the jet. Or the pool parties at Rossi's mansion. Or the odd visits to your friends' places. Especially Hotch's cozy apartment where you tripped over toys and the fridge always had at least one opened box of pancake mix for those special dinner/breakfast hybrids that Jack loved. Your lease couldn't come due soon enough.

You stacked your finished paperwork neatly to the side of your desk, for once finished before midnight as you noted the time at a quarter to ten. Hotch must have taken his paperwork home. At least you could wait to give him your finished paperwork until Monday. He deserved to catch a break where he could.

Grabbing your go-bag, you were grateful that you kept your own bottles of toiletries instead of relying solely on what the hotel offered. You learned that trick after the first trip to hotel in the middle of nowhere Utah. No matter how many times you showered, you still found sand in the oddest of places. Hotch ended up lending his Irish Springs to you once you burned through the tiny hotel bottles.

Heading down to the lower levels, you were able to find the showers easily past the gym equipment. Just as you were about to enter, you heard the sound of running water and saw that the lights were still on. Who else could still be here? You would've suspected Morgan had you not seen him leave with Prentiss and Garcia hours ago. Pausing, you debated whether you should still try the showers or not, but after remembering the lateness of the hour, you knew that the only other way you'd get a shower is to bum one off of one of your team's places. But half of them were either clubbing until dawn and the other half were with their family. Though, the excuse to see Hotch was definitely tempting.

In your mind's eye, you fantasized the perfect situation. Jack was either tucked away in his bed, sleeping soundly, or away at a friend's or Jessica's. Hotch would oblige you with a shower, but then there was the matter of sleep wear, of how it would be too late to leave. He would offer you a chance to stay, and he's too courteous to make you sleep on the couch. You're both adults, so you would share the bed, and you'd be sleeping in one of his shirts, cuddling up to his side, and maybe –

You heaved a sigh. Fantasizing about Hotch was a normal occurrence for you, but still a hopeless one. Despite your complicated feelings for him since your immediate attraction upon being hired and then the process of falling in love over a rough case where you were shot, Aaron Hotchner was still your boss. And he had already lost the great tragic love of his life, his high school sweetheart. Still, you couldn't help your feelings, so fantasies would have to do.

With another sigh to yourself, you hitched the strap of your go bag higher on your shoulders. There was no point in interrupting Hotch's night when he should be resting. It was decided. Quantico Showers it is.

When you entered the showers, you noted first that there was a familiar scent of the air, like a soap brand you've used before. Irish Springs? With your brow furrowed in concentration, you were so distracted that you didn't notice that the water had shut off. You were just trudging by the third shower stall when someone stepped out – towel thankfully around their waist – and you collided into him.

Under any other circumstances, you would have never been able to knock Hotch off his feet otherwise. Given the combination of the slick tiles, both yours and his surprise, and his desperation to keep the towel around his waist though, that meant that you sent Hotch careening backwards like a tree. Add that to your own momentum, and you went crashing down after him with a startled, "What the fuck?!" Hotch's back hit the tiles with a wet plop and his own grunt of pain which he repeated when you landed on top of him with an "Oof!" of your own. Your sound was one of the breath getting knocked from your lungs rather than pain considering Hotch cushioned your fall.

Still, it took a minute for you to sit up, your hands on either side of the body underneath you. The entire front of your clothes was soaked from contact with him, and your go-bag was spilled haphazardly somewhere off to the side. You blinked down at the warm, wet body beneath you and noted the slightly defined pectoral muscles and soft belly before your eyes dragged up the body to Hotch's familiar face.

For once, he wasn't scowling, his face too open from surprise, embarrassment, and vulnerability. As soon as your eyes met his brown ones, you watched the slight pink flush of his cheeks that he had from the warm water of his shower darken to red and spread all the way down his neck and chest. Curious, you considered just how far that blush could go before you noticed the towel again. That finally kickstarted your brain, shifting away from hormones to feelings, and you quickly glanced up at his face again in horror. "Why the fuck are you naked, Hotch?"

Hotch's voice was a little too high-pitched for you to be that afraid of his ire. In fact, he just sounded flustered. "Why are you still here?"

"The water at my apartment got shut off so I figured I'd take a shower here." For some reason, you could not meet his eyes as your own gaze traced over so much of his exposed skin. There was the bob of his Adam's apple from a nervous swallow. The water clung to his prominent collar bone. And his coin sized nipples were hardened buds that made your mouth water. Which reminded you that you were still pinning him to the floor.

Panicking, you started to climb off, trying not to flop like a fish on the wet floor, but suddenly Hotch was grabbing your arms. "Wait, don't do–" he cut himself off with a groan, and then you were frozen in place. "That," he lamely finished.

"Am I hurting you?" You asked, completely mortified.

"A little bit, yes," Hotch admitted, grimacing. Noticing the look on your face, he amended, "In a way. Just, can you just, watch your knee."

"What?" You looked down between your bodies, shifting yourself backwards on your haunches until you were kneeling between his legs. Hotch was still gripping your forearms tightly, not enough to hurt, but enough that you'd have to yank away from him to break his grip. Hotch's white towel, still preserving what little dignity he had left, was tented. "Oh my god," you breathed, mostly to yourself. To Hotch, you said, "You're fucking hard! I thought I kneed you in the dick, you dick!" You slapped his chest, and he bucked underneath you, more in surprise than pain.

"That would be easier to explain," Hotch muttered.

"Your poor ego," you cooed in false sympathy. "So that's why you're here. You were, uh," you coughed, "taking care of some personal business?"

"No." Hesitantly, as if afraid he would scare you off, Hotch released your arms, grabbing defensively at his towel. He sat up slowly with only the slightest twitch of his lip telling you that was sore from the fall. "After we got off the jet, it was too late for me to pick up Jack without waking him so I came here to burn some energy, do a few laps, lift weights. I always take a shower here afterwards because once I drive all the way home, I'm too tired to shower there," he explained.

"Oh." Your eyes darted between his contrite expression and his tented towel. It was a pretty big tent. "So that wasn't there before I got here?"

"Before you fell on me and started writhing around? No."

Unconsciously, you licked your lips, eyes still glued to his towel. "Sorry about that, Hotch."

A rumble spread through his chest, which finally broke your focus on his towel as you stared at his face again in surprise. He was laughing at you. "You don't look very sorry about it," he pointed out to you.

"Well, I am!" You blustered, still embarrassed where he seems to have gotten over the awkwardness of the situation pretty quickly in comparison. "I'm sorry I fell on you and got you hard, and it won't happen again."

"I hope you don't mean that." Hotch's low timbre simultaneously steadied her as much as it set her heart racing into a dead sprint. "I wouldn't mind if this happened again. Though, maybe a bed instead of the floor. My back would be spared any additional bruising," he wryly told her, a ghost of a smile across his face.

Unsure if you were reading this situation right, you studied his face. If you weren't close to Hotch or a profiler, you wouldn't have been able to tell that Hotch was teasing you. The longer you stared at him though, the more you saw the hunger shine through in his dark eyes, a softness about his face, but also something that looked like nerves despite his casual confidence. A fear of rejection, you realized.

"Aaron Hotchner!" You started laughing. "Really? You feel that way about me?"

He ducked his head bashfully. "I thought it was obvious how I felt. But I wasn't sure if you did, too, or if we were just good friends."

"Oh, I totally feel the same, I mean…" You floundered for a way to tell him just how deeply you cared without dropping the l-word. This wasn't the situation for that, though those feelings were definitely there. Allowing those feelings to lead you now, you dove forward and caught his mouth in a kiss.

Both hands cupped his jaw as you sucked his bottom lip into your mouth, nibbling until he opened up with a soft gasp that made your blood run hot in your veins. With his mouth open for you, your tongue swept inside, tasting the bitterness of the coffee along with the faint sweetness of the chocolate granola bar you both shared on the jet together. He tasted better than you ever could have imagined, and then again, exactly how you thought Aaron Hotchner would taste. Bitter at first, but with sweet undernotes that really shined through.

It was you who had to pull away first so you both could breathe. As you pulled away, you opened your eyes, pressing your fingers to your tingling lips. You watched Aaron follow after your mouth, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape, before he came back into himself. "So that's what you feel like," Aaron murmured.

A shiver ran through you at his words, but then you shivered again as your wet clothes stuck uncomfortably to your skin. Riding the high that came with requited feelings, you offered, "I know you just got a shower, Aaron, but I was thinking. I sort of owe you one for getting you all dirty again." You draped your palm on his shoulder, allowing your fingers to trail down his chest towards his towel, following the same path your eyes haven't tired of taking. "So, what do you say, I wash your back, and you wash mine?" You proposed, biting at your bottom lip in memory of biting his.

Aaron chuckled again, a pleased flush to his cheeks. Happiness was a good luck on him, like dipping him into the fountain of youth. Or maybe that was the water still clinging to his skin, his floppy hair threatening to dip in his eyes, something so boyishly charming about it all. "That seems only fair. Maybe you could give me a hand with something else?" He propositioned you, one eyebrow confidently cocked at his eyes dropped to his towel.

Grinning back at him, you reached out and took his hand as you both carefully climbed to your feet, balancing on the wet floor. "Oh, I'll give you more than a hand. Maybe I'll even give you a kiss."

This time it was Aaron reaching out to you as he gently chucked his fingertips on your chin. "You already gave me one, remember? But I could do with another."

"I only kissed your lips." You took a step back, peeling your clothes away eagerly. You let them drop around you, knowing they needed a wash anyway, and that could be handled later. Much later. "I plan on kissing you all over."

Matching your energy, Aaron dropped his towel, and now you were both completely naked. As he stared his fill of you, you wondered if you had the same look of equal parts hunger and tenderness in your own eyes as you lowered your gaze to his erection. Even as you stared at it, noting that he was certainly sizeable with the same flush that was on cheeks, it twitched in excitement.

Instead of reaching for you again, Aaron stepped back in the shower he just vacated. "Well, what are you waiting for? Get in here." He twisted the knobs, setting the water back on its warmest setting, as hot as you both could stand it.

You followed him back in the shower, crowding him until his back was against the wall. Then you pounced, both of you simultaneously going for a kiss, arms wrapping around each other, reaching for whatever you could get. His hands settled on your back, rubbing away the tension, while your fingers laced through his dark hair, directing him the way you wanted as you lead the kiss again. Your bodies were pressed against each other's tightly, his erection rutting against your belly

He took as much as he gave when it came to kissing, and between him and the water steaming at your back, you were having trouble breathing. When you pulled away, you reached for his Irish Springs, foregoing the loofa as you squeezed some in your hands. "I want you," you panted in his ear, lips catching at his earlobe playfully. "I can't wait. I have to taste you." You dropped to your knees in front of him and met his gaze. "Maybe you could wash my hair while I take care of this for you?" Your hand wrapped around his erection, and it throbbed against your palm at the sudsy contact.

The speed at which Aaron reached the Irish Springs almost made you laugh, but you stopped him. "I'm gonna have to introduce you to some real shampoo later, but I would prefer if you use my shampoo for my hair." Leaning backwards you dragged your go-bag close to the shower and fished out your shampoo, passing it back to him. "Don't be afraid to tug," you winked at him, "I'm not tender-headed."

Then you focused on the task quite literally at hand. You wrapped your fingers around him, pleased with how your fingertips barely brushed, impeded by his girth. He was thicker rather than longer, which you were fine with considering he was still plenty long enough to reach the important places. Thicker was a good trade-off anyway. As you pumped him, starting off slow, you could just hear his deep sigh over the steady hiss and drumming of the water against the tiles and at your back.

Your other hand reached for his sac, massaging, and you licked your lips in anticipation. When you chanced a glance up at him, you went weak at the barely contained passion in his dark eyes. It was a good thing that you were already kneeling, because had you'd been standing, your knees might have given out on you. Tightening your grip around him, you started flicking your wrist on the upward jerks as you pleasured him. "The sooner you start washing my hair, Aaron," you reminded him, "the sooner I'll take you in my mouth."

For once speechless, Aaron nodded, a vein jumping at his throat as he squeezed a dollop of your shampoo in his hands before gathering up your hair. Pleased at the contact, you leaned to the side to allow some of the water to wash away the soap around his erection before you pressed closer and licked him from seam of his sack to crown. The action had you both groaning, you at the taste of him and at the way his hands tightened their grip in your hair, him at the heat of your mouth.

After a few more teasing licks where you were sure you weren't going to choke on any linger Irish Springs soap suds, you finally wrapped your lips around his head, lightly suckling. The change was instantaneous as you watched the muscles in Aaron's abdomen flexing, as you felt his fingertips dig into your scalp, urging you to take him further in. You obliged, relaxing your throat, and Aaron gently pushed your head down by the grip he had on your hair until your nose was nestled against his pubic bone. He was so thick, hot, and hard in your mouth you were really struggling to breathe now, and tears had started to well up in your eyes. Aaron held you there for a while until he finally started to pull you off and you could breathe through your nose again.

This was the rhythm that he set for you. Aaron massaged your shampoo into your scalp while pushing and pulling your mouth off and on his cock. You had to focus on your breathing, and while you were dying to see what his face would look like, you couldn't risk looking up again without the possibility of getting shampoo in your eyes. Still, you felt completely relaxed and yet so, so hormonal. It would have never worked had you not trusted him so much.

Above you, Aaron was anything but quiet. Between little grunts and groans that escape between his tightly pinched lips, he started muttering your name with the same desperation, urgency, and litany as a prayer. The way Aaron said your name, it sounded like the only word he ever knew, as if that word had a thousand meanings from, "So good," to "Harder," to "Sweetheart." It was all you ever wanted, to hear your name said like, but to have it said by him only made it that much sweeter, that much better.

You could tell that he was starting to near his end when he started rushing the process. When he pulled himself from your mouth so you could breathe, you gasped, "Come in my mouth," and he practically snarled at the prospect. Your hands, which had been massaging at his thighs, now started smoothing up his torso until you reached his chest. Nimbly, your fingers found his nipples and you swirled and flicked your fingertips around them.

Aaron started to quake, and then he was suddenly that much louder in his repetitions of your name. "Fuck, I'm gonna come in that pretty mouth," he warned you before he finally gave in and bucked his hips against your mouth. His erection swelled against your lips, and then he was spending himself in your mouth like he promised, so much so that you started swallowing to prevent choking. At your mouth's suction and your throat's tightening, Aaron's muttering dissolved completely into wordless groans until he was finished, sagging against the shower wall as if he were boneless. He kept his hands in your hair, rinsing away the suds, and you pulled back enough to lick him clean and give him one last kiss there before you pulled yourself to your feet.

He didn't hesitate to pull you in for a kiss, not caring in the least that your mouth tasted of his come. If anything, it just made him that much more desperate to kiss you as his tongue swept along the insides of your cheeks. You kissed him back until you were sure your lips were going to bruise. It wasn't until the water started cooling at your back that you started to pull away.

"I still need to wash," you explained, "but I was wondering if we could finish this up at your place since my apartment won't have water until at least Monday." You pushed Aaron's wet hair off his face, just admiring how vulnerable he was like this in post-coital bliss. There was something so human about him now that he rarely let anyone see, and you were looking forward to being the person that could see it more often.

Breathless, Aaron huffed a laughed. "If I had it my way, you would never go back to that apartment."

Heart fluttering, you stepped back into his embrace. "Alright then. Let's have it your way."


End file.
